Ripping the piss since 1888

The cracks begin to show between the couple at a political rally last year

There was a new development in the mystery surrounding the 7-month disappearance of the wife of North Korean dictator, Kim Jong-un, last night when a 45-year-old woman from Whitechapel told The Whitechapel Whelk that she turned up at her flat in Commercial Road last Tuesday and carried out repairs on her central heating system.

Ri Sol-yu, 29, was previously feared dead after reports that she had fallen out with the President’s fiery youngest sister, Kim Yo-jong, but this latest sighting would appear to disprove the theory.

The woman concerned, Mrs Tracy Dell, a housewife and mother of nine, told us: “I’d been having problems with my central heating for weeks so I went online and spotted an ad for a local heating engineer. I sent an email, and the following day, Kim Jong-un’s wife turned up to repair it.

“She was quite friendly and chatty really. We had a bit of a chin-wag about the American election and she told me she wanted Mr Trump to win because he has nice hair.

“I asked her about her marriage to Kim Jong-un but she didn’t seem keen to discuss it. “Don’t talk to me about that pig,” she said. I can only assume they must have had a row.

“She fitted a new thermocouple to the main burner and we settled up. She only charged me 45 quid for labour and nothing for the part, as she told me that she’d used a second hand one she had in the van. I’d certainly use her again and would definitely recommend her to other people”

This surprising account mirrors the occasion in 1998 when Chairman Mao’s wife fitted an unvented hot water cylinder in the home of a woman from East Ham and didn’t charge her for a 22mm compression elbow joint.

Writer’s Note: My thanks go to The Artful Dodger who sewed the seed of this one in my mind last night before watering it liberally with fond sentiments and fizzy lager.

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The Whitechapel Whelk

We are a small, but perfectly formed band of satirists and smudge artists. We neither drink nor smoke. Nor indeed, do we use profanity or indulge in the sinful pleasures of the flesh. Now if you'll excuse me I need to get down the pub before closing time for a few pints and half an ounce of Golden Virginia. Hopefully, I'll have enough cash left to visit the local rub 'n' tug shop later for a massage and a rattling good bunk up with a painted floozie.
All The Best.
Danny SoZ.
Editor-in-chief